Welcome home?
by Rogue-Pirate
Summary: What kind of welcome home will Bootstrap get? It's not one he expects anyway. This is a oneshot. I suppose it's a bit angsty, bit sad...etc. Not much more to say, I'm not good at summaries, as you can see...please read and review though.


**Disclaimer: I have nothing please do not sue. I own only the characters that do not appear (or are mentioned) in the film, but I'd be willing to swap one old lady and nosy neighbour for one Captain Jack Sparrow, and a side order of Will Turner. What say you to that, ay? Do we have an accord? No? What do ya' mean NO? Fine…keep your characters…sulk**

_AN: Hello anyone reading this, this is my first EVER attempt at FF, and so please be gentle with me. Flames are **not** welcome, but helpful, constructive criticisms, will of course always be welcomed with open arms. So if you like, or even didn't hate could you let me know in a review, please. If you thought there was something wrong with it, let me know, and if your suggestion is a good one, or you know, lots of people have the same comment, then…I **will** do something about it. Can't say fairer than that! Thank you for your time and attention. So if you'd like to read…and then review… Ok that's it, no more shameless begging..._

Bootstrap stepped off the ship, and made his way down the gangplank to the dock. He paused momentarily and looked around at how much had changed in the years since he'd last been there. _What was it now_, he mused to himself, _5, 6 years? Perhaps more_, he couldn't quite remember, with good reason he supposed.

He pulled his thin coat around him tighter to ward off the cold and began to walk through the town. He was surprised at how easily his feet seemed to remember the way, regardless of how the buildings had changed. He navigated the streets, dodging the children playing and their mothers talking. He felt their eyes following him as he past, and their voices dropped to a whisper. _Do they know? No, it's not possible_ his mind countered, he could practically see Jack standing in front of him, swaying and his hands making erratic circles in the air _not probable, mate_. He gave a wry smile before he could stop himself, but pushed Jack out of his thoughts, he had a hard enough time living with what he had done to Jack as it was, without him popping up to remind him, it wouldn't help him move on with his life; and he needed to do that, for his family, if not for himself.

He tucked his chin into his collar and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets; it had been a long time since he had felt so cold, he welcomed it though, it meant that he was still alive, and not only that, but he was here, back in England, to be with his family. He could live with it, he could live with anything if it meant that he could spend the rest of his life watching his children become adults, and grow old with his wife.

Finally, he reached his destination, a run down mid-terrace house that had once been his wife's pride and joy. Bracing himself, unsure of what reaction he would receive, he knocked on the door…

…No answer. He knocked again, louder this time, still no answer, well not from the door he wanted anyway. The next-door neighbour had opened her door and was staring at him, 'what do ya want?' she snapped.

Bootstrap, startled somewhat, took a deep breath and said 'the people that live here, I need to speak with them, can you tell me where they are?' 'Please' he added as an after thought.

The dirty looking woman just stood there staring at him with a blank look on her face. He was a little unsure what to do, _did she even understand what I asked, Christ did I speak or just say it in my head? No…I'm sure I said it out loud…then why is she just standing there? Ah…_thought Bootstrap_ money, what everything always comes down too, good ol' silver and gold._

'Look' he said 'I don't have much money, but what I've got, here, take it it's yours. I just really have to find the people who live here. Please can you help me' he was a little shocked about how pleading his voice had come out, but he had lost his pride years ago, when he'd let Barbossa maroon Jack…_No Stop! Focus here, this is concerning your family this isn't the time or place to be thinking about Jack._

She looked down at the money in Bootstrap's hand, looked up at his face, as if trying to see if he was tricking her; that he'd snatch the money away from her at the last minute. Deciding that it was worth the chance she reached out and grabbed the money, tucking it away in side her grubby apron. She felt a little bad for taking it, he obviously needed it; but hell, so did she, she had little ones to feed.

Sighing, she said 'they're at work, they should be home in about an hour or so, maybe a little longer.'

'All of them' Cried Bootstrap genuinely shocked.

'Yes all of them! It's really not all that uncommon in this day and age, luv. They're working up at the cotton mill.' She said with a sneer.

'Oh God' he moaned softly. What had he done? He'd left his wife and children and they had to face this alone, they were faced to work in…in…in a factory, his mind spluttered. Because of him, his delicate little wife, and his young children were forced to work. Oh he'd heard about the factories, how the workers were there for 12 hours a day. 'Oh Lord, what have I don to you Alice?'

'Alice? Nobody of the name Alice lives 'ere, this is the Graham's house' She was looking at him as if he had lost his mind, and proclaimed that he was the son of God resurrected or something.

'What? Alice Turner doesn't live here?' Do you know her? Can you tell me where she lives now?' he had to nearly physically restrain himself from grabbing the front of her dress and shaking the information out of her, she was taking so bloody long! He resisted though, he knew that all it would warrant him was a slap, and no information.

Sighing impatiently, the woman in front of him snapped 'I know nuffin' of no Alice…'she looked at him blankly.

'Turner' he supplied helpfully, all the while resisting the urge to throttle the silly bitch in front of him.

'Yeah right, Turner…Well I've neva 'eard of her.' Looking at Bootstraps disappointed face she added with a roll of her eyes 'but…me mother-in-law's lived here longer than me, wait 'ere and I'll go ask. K?'

'Thank you, you're most kind' he replied eagerly, his excitement uncontrollable.

This comment was met with a snort of disbelief, as the woman turned to go back in doors. She was gone about 15 minutes he supposed, and it was growing dark (thankfully there was no moon tonight, he didn't need to frighten these folks juts yet), he'd forgotten how early it got dark in England, just another thing to get used to again, he mused. He hoped she wouldn't be gone much longer, he really wanted to find his family tonight, he realised that one more night wouldn't make any difference to them, he'd been gone so long after all, but he didn't think he could spend even one more night separated form them, especially as he had come so close. He was still distracted by his thoughts when an older woman came to the door. She recognised him immediately, the same, however could not be said for Bootstrap.

'Mr Turner! What a pleasant surprise, it's been so long since I've seen you. When Margaret here said there was someone at the door asking after Alice, I had hoped it was you. Come in, please wont you come in before we both catch our deaths out here.' She gave a slight cackle all the while herding him through to the kitchen. Bootstrap didn't know what to say, he still didn't recognise the little old lady in front of him. Seeming to sense this, she gestured to the chair near the fire, and once she was settled in the chair opposite him, she said

'Mr Turner, it's been a ling time, you've barely aged at all though, unfortunately I don't think time has been so kind to me. I was your wife's midwife, when she had William.'

She smiled as recognition showed on Bootstraps face.

'I'm sorry' he mumbled 'it's been so many years now. But the reason I'm here' he pressed 'is to find my family, it's been so long, too long.' He insisted.

The old woman glanced down at her gnarled hands briefly before looking back at up at Bootstrap apologetically 'I have some… bad news' taking a deep breath she continued 'Alice…she died, a few years ago now, giving birth to your second child, Oh my, it must be nearly six years now I suppose. We thought word had gotten to you, but when you weren't here for the funeral…well…there was talk that you'd died too.'

He just stared at her in utter disbelief; his brain was unable to comprehend what he was being told. Finally, once he'd found his voice again, he choked out 'oh God, no…not Alice…not my wife…' His head snapped up quickly as if just remembering, and gripping the edge of the old, worn chair, he lent forward 'and what of the children, where can I find them?'

'Children?' she asked gently, suddenly it dawned on her 'Oh, you mean William…well, he stayed here for a while, a few years, until he was old enough to work a passage, as a cabin boy or something, I should imagine. A strapping young boy he was, intelligent too…he said he was goin' to go off an' find his…' she caught herself 'you, he was goin' to find you…He never did believe that you had died, just that you had never heard what had happened. Well when no word came from him, ya know…to say that he'd found you…or was comin' back…I sent James, my grandson, down to the docks to see what news he could find. Mr Turner, I'm sorry, but your son's ship, 'The Jasmine' was attacked by pirates on the way to it's destination' swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued 'there were no survivors.'

Bootstrap, who had been leaning forward all this time, sank back. The life seemed to drain right out of him, until he was nought but an empty shell. Slowly he closed his eyes, as if this would ease the pain. _How could this be?_ He asked himself. _Less than an hour ago, he had an entire family, a new life before him, and now, he'd learned that everyone he loved was dead…Alice, William, the babe, Jack…all gone._

'The child, the one my wife…' his voice broke over the last few words.

'It was a little girl, they were buried together, over in St. Thomas' graveyard, at the bottom of Chilver street.'

He needed to get out of here, he could feel the room closing in on him, and he couldn't breathe. 'Thank you for your time.' He said standing up, he made to leave the kitchen, when a wrinkly old hand reached out and grabbed his forearm. 'I'm so sorry Mr Turner; I don't relish telling people such bad news. Take care of yourself though Mr Turner.' As if she could read what he was thinking, she added 'it's not your decision to make, the Lord will let you know when it's your time. Remember, He works in mysterious ways-' he snorted at this, _Mysterious ways, indeed! Everyone I love and care about has died! It's as if this is part of the curse! Everyone I love dies, but I'm forced to live for eternity…without them!_ '-there could be some good to come out of this yet' she continued as if she hadn't heard him. And with that, she let him go.

There finished! If you read please review, it would be greatly appreciated, I would love to hear what you think, so long as you don't flame me…that'd make me cry… That's all I have to say really. Except, my darlings thank you for sticking with it to the end, those who didn't bail out before now!


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